


Aurantia

by minutiae



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Corn field, First Kiss, Horror, M/M, Spooky, canon typical monster fight, corn field related wildlife, that's not how crop circles are made
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutiae/pseuds/minutiae
Summary: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge #008Aiden picks up a mysterious contract he needs Lambert's help with. It goes as well as Lambert expects, but that's ok. Aiden has no problem with making it up to him.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge #008





	Aurantia

What the  _ fuck _ was this ridiculous crop? It towered over him, the narrow path through the plants made it distressingly difficult to walk quietly. The fallen leaves crinkled underfoot no matter how lightly he stepped.  Aiden had insisted he needed help on a hunt. One of his brothers had gone missing after picking up an unknown and unfamiliar sounding contract. Lambert had scoffed at first. He had a list of rules of what contracts he would, and would not take.  Unknown and impossible sounding monsters was number one on that list. There were few enough witchers left, and the hatred that poisoned the continent against them was dangerous. Mages loved experimenting on them. Nobles loved capturing them. Commoners loved killing them. 

Rules needed breaking sometimes, if only out of sheer curiosity. He'd originally had a rule to not work with Cats, but after the sacking, any cross-school animosity seemed foolish. Aiden often called him paranoid, but he was  _ cautious _ . 

Caution had kept him alive. 

He was most definitely not being cautious right now. The closest that they could figure was the creature inhabiting the crops was a wraith. Aiden was supposed to be approaching from the opposite side.  The rattling of the dry stalks unnerved him, a constant rustle that surrounded him. It was the noisiest, most disorienting trap he'd ever willingly allowed himself to be caught in. The things he did for Aiden was beginning to seriously worry him. One tilt of his chin, those big green eyes blinking up at him, and Lambert folded every time. 

A fast, skittering rattle behind him had Lambert spinning, sword drawn and teeth bared. But nothing was there except the distressingly even rows of dry stalks. He turned slowly, and even without raising his feet from the ground, the leaves crackled at the shifting of his weight. 

He was surrounded by noise, the wind catching the rattling leaves, rustling and moving. The constant wave of the dry stalks and all of the fat leaves and strange tufts of hair had him nearly vibrating with tension. The constant shifting and movement made every breath an exercise in patience. No matter which direction he turned there was a movement in the corner of his eye, on the edge of his peripheral vision. He slunk forward, regardless. Aiden was in the same situation on the far side of this field, and Lambert wouldn't leave him without backup. 

It was the tenth, hundredth, thousandth time that he spun to catch whatever skittering movement spooked him when he was suddenly caught, a sticky hand caressing his face, snatching at his eyes and hair when the prickle of tiny feet made him flail. 

A fucking  _ spiderweb _ . He was out here, dancing nervously like a brand new witcher his first week on the path and nearly set the entire field aflame over a  _ spider _ . He glared at the little beast, long sharp legs making it nearly as wide as his palm. The bright yellow and black heavy orb of its body made him shudder at the touch memory of it on his face. It skittered away delicately, disappearing into the piles of leaves on the ground. 

" _ Fuck _ ." 

He hurried away, brushing through the stalks down the path with long strides. It wasn't long before he came across another of those huge webs, stretched the length of his arm across more of the tall plants. Aiden _owed_ him. He'd never been this far south, he'd never seen a spider like that and this field was 100% nothing he ever wanted to experience again. There were so many questions he could have, should have asked regarding this contract. And yet Aiden had beckoned, big green eyes wide, soft lip pouting at his initial refusal, and here he was. Forbidden from using his bombs, forbidden from using igni, as the stalks were _extremely_ _flammable_. 

The noise was getting to him. The crackle of his feet on the dry leaves and husks went against everything he’d ever been taught about tracking. He paused, but the crackle of feet behind him continued, and he twisted around, his sword slicing easily through some of the tall stalks. They clattered to the ground, and it was only then he noticed the surprisingly large red snake working it’s way past him. It was mostly covered by the debris but was unconcerned by his presence.

Night was falling fast, and the creature they were sent to hunt was said to be most active in the dark. Lambert stopped to stretch, hearing Vesemir’s drills about long term tensing. He muttered through a few smooth, quick movements, eyes darting, watching, waiting. It wasn’t paranoia if he knew there actually was something in the field. They’d been hired to remove it, after all. Rolling his shoulders and bouncing slightly on his feet he dropped back down into a ready stance and blew out a breath.    
  
He could smell the bonfire that the town had burning upwind, the sound of drums and songs faint over the distance. Aiden had told him they were going to continue with their festivities, having assured the townsfolk it wouldn’t interfere with their hunt. It could even help, drawing the beast towards them. It was a foolhardy plan, but Lambert had been too distracted by the flower crown full of bright yellow dahlias Aiden had plopped on his head. Aiden smiled so brightly when Lambert scowled but didn’t remove the crown that he’d entirely forgotten to argue against this ridiculous plan.    
  
So here they were, the farthest south he’d ever been. He had no idea if he’d even be able to make it back to Kaer Morhen for winter. The night air had a chill to it, and it was only after he shivered that he heard the drag of a sharp edge through the leaves behind him. He spun, unable to see through the shadows and shifting stalks of the field. This wasn’t the first time he found himself jealous of Aiden’s preference for smaller, matched blades. The new ones he was carrying today had a wicked curve to them and Aiden always let him play with the new weapons he found.    
  
He swung out and fast with his silver blade but whatever that shadow was, the sharp slide through the debris on the ground set his teeth on edge. He missed, dancing around it but he caught the edge of a shadow as he threw up a Quen. Everything went black for a moment as the shadow of the beast seemed to wash up and over him, the bright gold of his shield sparking and cracking.    
_  
_ _ “Aiden!”  _   
  
Lambert would  _ never _ admit how his voice cracked, and that his Quen shattered not at the recognizable pounding of Aiden’s feet, but at his scream of rage. Blackness enveloped him and he screamed at the feeling of claws attempting to tear open his armour, hot ribbons of blood from where they caught his skin.    
  
Another scream was snatched from his throat as the concussion of an aard sent him and the blackness surrounding him through the air. He hit the ground hard, rolling to his feet by a reflex created by decades of training. Aiden was there and nearly feral with rage. The brutal dance of his flashing silver blades was captivating. He dropped to the ground, long legs twisting and spinning him up to the opposite side of the enormous shadow beast.    
  
There was no definable edge to the smoky shadow as it writhed and hissed, the claws and whatever teeth it had were not immediately visible. Lambert did the only thing he  _ could _ without a silver blade. He cast Yrden, and the trapped horror howled a resonating, discordant note that dropped him to his knees. But Yrden didn’t break, even as he dove for his sword that glinted a reflection of Aiden’s skittering and unsteady Quen.    
  
All he could hear was the panicked growling of the monster, but just as he reached the blade he was sent flying back, crashing through the dry stalks. He dragged himself up, hissing in pain, his steel blade drawn. Silver wasn’t working.    
  
He ran full speed and drove his sword through the monster and another discordant wail sent them both to their knees. Yrden flickered, nearly failing and Aiden recast it with a snarl. Lambert scrambled, digging out two blades he kept in small hidden pockets of his armour. They were small push daggers, but they were all he had that was iron. He dove in again, both blades shoved deep through the undulating fog and hit with a sickening snap. Lambert’s arms _ burned _ and he screamed at the same time all of the air seemed sucked out of the world, dragging him off his feet before the world went black and stars exploded before him.    
  
He woke up to a sobbing Aiden, completely covered with a black, thick, viscous liquid. He had one long, deep slash that crossed his forehead, right eye, down his cheek, and tore open his armour across his right shoulder. He was kneeling over Lambert, cradling his head with both hands.    
  


“Fuck I thought it killed you.” 

  
Lambert’s head spun, but the bright flashes in his vision didn’t stop him from noting the damage done to his Cat, who was bleeding heavily. “Stupid fucking Cat, take a Swallow, stop bleeding on me.”    
  
Aiden pressed his forehead to Lambert’s, eyes closed, breathing fast and shaky. Lambert stretched slightly, testing and cataloging the damage to his body. Aiden got the worst of it, it seemed. He shook off the worried hands as leveraged himself up to a sitting position. Aiden had rolled backward into a crouch beside him, waiting as Lambert took stock of their surroundings. The beast was gone after the explosion, and they were in the center of a huge flattened circle of the tall stalks.

Lambert lifted one slightly shaky hand and gripped Aiden’s hair to drag him close. The Cat made a strangled noise as Lambert pulled him yet closer as he growled, the delicate brushing slide of their lips barely touching and their shared breath lending a breathlessness to his low, broken voice.   
  
“I have a very good idea of how you are going to make this up to me.” 

Aiden keened softly, tipping his chin up, and Lambert dragged the soft tip of his tongue across Aiden’s lower lip. As Aiden melted into touch, seeking his mouth, Lambert shoved a bottle of Swallow between his lips, shoving the startled witcher back with a smirk.    
  
Aiden gaped at him, looking down at the bottle, and back up at the mischievous golden glare before him. He flailed, before flinging the bottle at Lambert, who caught it with a laugh. Aiden huffed, his face pink and looked away. Lambert reached out, dragging him back close before cupping his face with both hands. He guided him back into a soft, gentle kiss, swallowing the soft, desperate sounds Aiden made.   
  



End file.
